Diane Chamberlain's Blog - Posts Tagged "facebook"
One Paragraph, Three Drafts
I write many, many drafts as I work on a book. Recently, someone on Facebook asked writers to share different drafts of a single paragraph. I thought this would be an interesting exercise for me to share with you, my blog readers. I want to give credit to the Facebooker who suggested this, but I don't recall who it was, so I hope that person will read this post and step forward. Until then, here are three drafts of the same paragraph of my work-in-progress, currently titled The Lies We Told. We are in Maya's point of view here. I hope that seeing the first draft will encourage those of you who think you have to write something perfectly the first time!
Early Draft:
A guy walked into the restaurant. She noticed him the second he walked in. there was something about him. the way he scanned the restaurant. unsmiling. a flare to his nostrils that reminded her of ___. His eyes came to rest on the two men at the table next to her and Adam's he walked toward the table with a deliberate stride, and she watched him pull a gun from his jacket pocket and before she could scream or duck or even widen her eyes, he'd shot the man at the table in the head. Everyone screamed then. She had a lot of company.
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Middle Draft:
Adam said something to Brent and Rebecca, but I didn't hear him. My gaze was on a man who had just walked into the restaurant. He was dark-haired, wearing a white t-shirt and beige pants and he stood in front of the door, looking from table to table. There was something about him that sent a shiver through me.
He started walking toward us--or at least, I thought he was heading toward us. Then I saw that his gaze--his ice-blue eyes--was on the two men at the table adjacent to ours. Adam said something that must have been funny, because Brent and Rebecca both laughed, but I'd set down my fork and was beginning to tremble, my heart thudding beneath my breastbone.
I knew how quickly these things could happen. He reached behind his back, then whipped his arm out straight, the gun a gray blur, and I saw the small symbol tattooed on his finger as as he pressed the trigger.
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Final Draft:
Adam said something in response, but I didn't hear him. I was watching a man who had just walked into the restaurant. He was Caucasian, dark-haired, wearing a white t-shirt and beige pants, and he stood in front of the door, shifting his gaze quickly from table to table. Something about him sent a shiver through me.
He started walking toward us--or at least, I thought he was heading toward our table. His stride was deliberate, his nostrils flared. Then I saw that his eyes--his ice-blue eyes--were locked on the two men at the table in front of ours. Adam said something that must have been funny, because Brent and Rebecca both laughed, but I'd set down my spoon and was gripping the corner of the table, my heart thudding beneath my breastbone.
I knew better than anyone how quickly these things could happen. He reached behind his back with his right hand, then whipped his arm out straight, the gun a gray blur as it cut through the air, and I saw the tattoo of a black star on his index finger as he pressed the trigger.
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Even as I look at the final draft of this paragraph, I see things I want to change. Imagine 400 pages of this! No wonder I'm so tired. My deadline is next week, so soon I'll have to stop tinkering and send the finished product to my editor. For now, though, I hope you enjoyed this little peek into my world.
Early Draft:
A guy walked into the restaurant. She noticed him the second he walked in. there was something about him. the way he scanned the restaurant. unsmiling. a flare to his nostrils that reminded her of ___. His eyes came to rest on the two men at the table next to her and Adam's he walked toward the table with a deliberate stride, and she watched him pull a gun from his jacket pocket and before she could scream or duck or even widen her eyes, he'd shot the man at the table in the head. Everyone screamed then. She had a lot of company.
--------------
Middle Draft:
Adam said something to Brent and Rebecca, but I didn't hear him. My gaze was on a man who had just walked into the restaurant. He was dark-haired, wearing a white t-shirt and beige pants and he stood in front of the door, looking from table to table. There was something about him that sent a shiver through me.
He started walking toward us--or at least, I thought he was heading toward us. Then I saw that his gaze--his ice-blue eyes--was on the two men at the table adjacent to ours. Adam said something that must have been funny, because Brent and Rebecca both laughed, but I'd set down my fork and was beginning to tremble, my heart thudding beneath my breastbone.
I knew how quickly these things could happen. He reached behind his back, then whipped his arm out straight, the gun a gray blur, and I saw the small symbol tattooed on his finger as as he pressed the trigger.
--------------
Final Draft:
Adam said something in response, but I didn't hear him. I was watching a man who had just walked into the restaurant. He was Caucasian, dark-haired, wearing a white t-shirt and beige pants, and he stood in front of the door, shifting his gaze quickly from table to table. Something about him sent a shiver through me.
He started walking toward us--or at least, I thought he was heading toward our table. His stride was deliberate, his nostrils flared. Then I saw that his eyes--his ice-blue eyes--were locked on the two men at the table in front of ours. Adam said something that must have been funny, because Brent and Rebecca both laughed, but I'd set down my spoon and was gripping the corner of the table, my heart thudding beneath my breastbone.
I knew better than anyone how quickly these things could happen. He reached behind his back with his right hand, then whipped his arm out straight, the gun a gray blur as it cut through the air, and I saw the tattoo of a black star on his index finger as he pressed the trigger.
--------------
Even as I look at the final draft of this paragraph, I see things I want to change. Imagine 400 pages of this! No wonder I'm so tired. My deadline is next week, so soon I'll have to stop tinkering and send the finished product to my editor. For now, though, I hope you enjoyed this little peek into my world.
Embracing Change
The original title for this blog post was “I Give Up,” but when I mentioned that to my significant other, John, he nixed it. He said I’m a positive person who has overcome adversity and embraces change, totally shaming me into taking a different slant on my topic. Until then, I was sounding like quite the curmudgeon in this post. Now, I feel much lighter. At least, I’m trying to feel more like the change-embracing woman John believes me to be.
The first thing I planned to gripe about was grammatical abominations that have become commonplace:
•“Me and Joe went to the movies.”
•Omitting the comma before the conjunction that introduces an independent clause. (Do I own the last copy of Strunk and White?)
•Apostrophes used in plural words. As in “Apostrophe’s used in plural word’s.”
The other day, I heard the BBC World News commentator sign off with “Good day, from me and BBC,” and I decided to give up. Whoops. I mean, to embrace change. As John pointed out to me, English is a dynamic language. Accepting the changes will be so freeing! I’ll let you know how I make out.
Then I planned to discuss my war against the sale of used books. I never did mind the mom-and-pop store on the corner selling my books used, but when gigantic Amazon began pushing used books on the same page as the new books–on the same day those new books were released–I joined my fellow writers in fighting back. It’s a losing battle, and while I rue the loss of income to myself and other authors, I’ve stopped fighting it. Nevertheless, I can’t help but whisper to you, “Do you know where that book has been?”
E-books. “I will never read an e-book.” I’m sure I said that as recently as last year, proclaiming, “I need the feel of paper in my hands.” I now own an e-reader and I love it, but not without guilt. Authors make less money on e-books, and I can’t bear to think about what this shift in the way we read will mean to my beloved booksellers. But the times they are a-changin’, and I hope we can all find ways not only to endure what’s happening in the book world, but to actually thrive in spite of it. I have no idea how, but the change-embracing Diane is also an optimist!
Then we have social media. Facebook. Goodreads. Twitter. MySpace. I resisted, wondering what was wrong with all those needy people who befriended strangers. Now, though, I’ve radically embraced this change. Social media rocks. What a fabulous way to keep in touch, not only with my “real” friends and family, but my readers as well.
So how about you? What changes are you resisting? Shall we embrace them together?
The first thing I planned to gripe about was grammatical abominations that have become commonplace:
•“Me and Joe went to the movies.”
•Omitting the comma before the conjunction that introduces an independent clause. (Do I own the last copy of Strunk and White?)
•Apostrophes used in plural words. As in “Apostrophe’s used in plural word’s.”
The other day, I heard the BBC World News commentator sign off with “Good day, from me and BBC,” and I decided to give up. Whoops. I mean, to embrace change. As John pointed out to me, English is a dynamic language. Accepting the changes will be so freeing! I’ll let you know how I make out.
Then I planned to discuss my war against the sale of used books. I never did mind the mom-and-pop store on the corner selling my books used, but when gigantic Amazon began pushing used books on the same page as the new books–on the same day those new books were released–I joined my fellow writers in fighting back. It’s a losing battle, and while I rue the loss of income to myself and other authors, I’ve stopped fighting it. Nevertheless, I can’t help but whisper to you, “Do you know where that book has been?”
E-books. “I will never read an e-book.” I’m sure I said that as recently as last year, proclaiming, “I need the feel of paper in my hands.” I now own an e-reader and I love it, but not without guilt. Authors make less money on e-books, and I can’t bear to think about what this shift in the way we read will mean to my beloved booksellers. But the times they are a-changin’, and I hope we can all find ways not only to endure what’s happening in the book world, but to actually thrive in spite of it. I have no idea how, but the change-embracing Diane is also an optimist!
Then we have social media. Facebook. Goodreads. Twitter. MySpace. I resisted, wondering what was wrong with all those needy people who befriended strangers. Now, though, I’ve radically embraced this change. Social media rocks. What a fabulous way to keep in touch, not only with my “real” friends and family, but my readers as well.
So how about you? What changes are you resisting? Shall we embrace them together?
Tears and Laughter
I asked my Facebook readers if they like books and movies that make them cry. I found the answers fascinating because there were so many different takes on the subject. Some people feel manipulated by a writer if they’re moved to tears. Others like a little tear-jerkiness as long as they don’t feel manipulated. Still others think a good cry means the author or screenwriter has done a good job.
A few people prefer laughter to tears when reading a book or watching a movie, and some don’t care whether they laugh or cry as long as they feel something. A few want to read for escape, period, which means no tears, thank you very much.
All of this made me ponder my own feelings about what I read or watch. I enjoy comedy, but I’m more drawn to drama, as you could guess if you’ve ever read my books. I do love a good cry, but if I feel manipulated I will be annoyed, and the writer had better not harm so much as a toenail of an animal and if she can leave out the Holocaust and all other forms of man’s inhumanity to man, even better.
I like subtlety–the tears that catch me unawares. The gentle relationship between Julia and Paul Child in Julie and Julia, for example. The joyous reunion of Jamal and Latika in Slumdog Millionaire. The tender scene in A Beautiful Mind where Alicia tells John she needs to believe “something extraordinary is possible.” I’ve wept during any number of scenes in books like Audrey Niffenegger’s The Time Traveler’s Wife, Kathryn Stockett’s The Help, and Marisa de los Santos’ light-but-touching Belong to Me. Those books and movies will stay with me for a long, long time because of the emotion I felt as I enjoyed them.
That’s the bottom line, isn’t it? Enjoyment? What do you turn to for your reading and viewing pleasure? Do you prefer to be moved to tears or laughter. . . or both?
A few people prefer laughter to tears when reading a book or watching a movie, and some don’t care whether they laugh or cry as long as they feel something. A few want to read for escape, period, which means no tears, thank you very much.
All of this made me ponder my own feelings about what I read or watch. I enjoy comedy, but I’m more drawn to drama, as you could guess if you’ve ever read my books. I do love a good cry, but if I feel manipulated I will be annoyed, and the writer had better not harm so much as a toenail of an animal and if she can leave out the Holocaust and all other forms of man’s inhumanity to man, even better.
I like subtlety–the tears that catch me unawares. The gentle relationship between Julia and Paul Child in Julie and Julia, for example. The joyous reunion of Jamal and Latika in Slumdog Millionaire. The tender scene in A Beautiful Mind where Alicia tells John she needs to believe “something extraordinary is possible.” I’ve wept during any number of scenes in books like Audrey Niffenegger’s The Time Traveler’s Wife, Kathryn Stockett’s The Help, and Marisa de los Santos’ light-but-touching Belong to Me. Those books and movies will stay with me for a long, long time because of the emotion I felt as I enjoyed them.
That’s the bottom line, isn’t it? Enjoyment? What do you turn to for your reading and viewing pleasure? Do you prefer to be moved to tears or laughter. . . or both?
